Cabin Pressure: Shaking hands and the promise of Toblerone cupcakes
by ko-writes
Summary: Prompt: Can I have a fic of Martin and Arthur being babysat by Douglas as kids? Like, Arthur is three or four and Martin is seven and Douglas is seventeen? TW: Child Abuse and anxiety
1. Chapter 1

"Arthur?! Arthur, where are you?!" Douglas called. For an idiot, that boy could hide. He took a breath before entering Martin's room; the boy was frail enough from nerves as it was. He knocked gently, "Martin?" He called softly.

"Yeth?" A small voice lisped.

"It's Douglas, can I come in?" He asked gently.

There was a short pause before the reply of, "O-okay…"

Douglas opened the door as quietly as he could. Martin was sitting at his desk, trying to glue together a model aeroplane with shaking hands. Progress. "Hey, Captain; what are you up to?"

Martin smiled frailly at the nickname. "Trying to put my Lockheed McDonnel 3-12 together. But I can't do it right, my handth won't thtop shaking again…" Martin sighed.

"Do you want me to help?" Douglas offered.

"No, it'th ok…"

Douglas smiled sadly at the back of the little boy's head as he turned away, embarrassed. "Arthur's hiding again; do you think you can help me find him?"

Martin considered this for a second. "I can try…" the seven year old shrugged, slipping off his chair cautiously. Douglas knew Martin was like a fragile wall-flower – he needed care to grow and be strong. Ever since he had been attacked by the older boys a few months ago, Martin hardly left his room; the anxiety was that bad. Luckily, Douglas was a good tutor, so Martin still got some education – but they needed to help the boy through the anxiety. "Douglath…"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Why do you think Arthur keepth hiding?" Douglas knew the answer, but how to say it? "Ith it like what happened to me…?"

"Do you mean the bullies…?" Douglas asked. He knew Carolyn fostered Martin (and was considering adoption), but he didn't know why. He hoped Martin just meant the bullies.

"Not jutht them…" Martin admitted, subconsciously leaning closer to the older boy.

"What do you mean, Captain?" Douglas kneeled in front of the small boy.

"Daddy… didn't like me much…" fat tears threatened to spill down the little boy's face as he blushed and stared at his feet. Douglas barely managed to stop himself sweeping the child into a hug.

"Hey, Chief," he began to joke, "I might be wrong, but I think you're very sad. This makes me feel quite upset, also. One thing I could do is give you a hug. How does that sound to – oof!" Martin threw his arms around Douglas neck and buried his head in the crook of his neck.

"It wath thcary…" Martin squeaked, Douglas held the boy tighter. It made so much sense, it made him sick. If he _ever_ found Martin's real parents… Well, that was better left unsaid. His shoulder was becoming very soggy.

"It's alright, Captain. Shh, now…" Douglas soothed, rubbing small circles on the boy's back.

Martin gasped and pushed away, almost like he had just realised what he was doing, Douglas let him so he didn't feel constricted, "I-I'm th-thorry, Douglath! I shouldn't do that…" Martin was trembling.

"Martin, I'm not mad; I wanted to give you a hug…" Douglas assured, careful not to touch Martin.

"Really?" Martin sniffed, wiping his nose scruffily on his too-long sleeves of his too-baggy pyjama top. Douglas never minded Martin wearing his pyjamas instead of regular clothes; they were soft, warm and comforting; God knows the boy needed all the comfort he could get!

"Yeah, why would I offer to hug you if I didn't want to?" Douglas smiled slightly.

"Daddy thaid he wanted to hug me tho I'd come to him; then he'd shove me, or hit me, or call me bad wordth…" Martin looked down at his feet, shuffling them as he bit his lip.

"I promise you, Martin; I will never do that, and neither will Carolyn. We'll make sure nothing like that ever happens again, ok?" Douglas promised.

Martin's head snapped up in surprise. "You mean it…?" he ventured cautiously.

"Of course I do. Now, if you're up to it, we'll go find Arthur and then have some Toblerone cupcakes and play aeroplanes," Douglas smiled.

"O-okay. I thought I heard something in the attic…" Martin nodded.

Douglas looped and arm around the ginger boy's shoulders as they made their way to the attic.

"Love you Douglath…" Martin mumbled. Douglas smiled down at him. Yes. Martin would be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Martin and Douglas heard crying from behind several boxes of Christmas decorations when they climbed into the attic. "A-Arthur?" Martin squeaked.

Arthur sniffed, "Skip?" he asked.

"Y-Yeth. D-Douglath ith here, t-too…" Martin informed.

"I-I don't want to be… bad. But I want you to go away," Arthur sobbed. Douglas frowned. Martin took a deep breath and a step forward.

"No. I-I can't… I want you to come with uth, downthtairth, and eat Toblerone cupcaketh and play aeroplaneth. I-it'th thelfish, but I think you want that too." Martin was by the boxes now, offering a hand to the sobbing toddler.

"Arthur; You… can trust me. You know that, right?" The seventeen year old actually bit his lip. These two were both abuse victims and both suffering because someone was just barbaric and -! No. Not those feelings, not that can of worms.

Martin helped Arthur up. Despite being four years younger – Arthur wasn't that much shorter. It was probably due to Martin's malnutrition.

Carolyn had told him about it because it was her routine to let the boy eat whenever he was hungry because, despite being in her care for four months, Martin was still awfully skinny. The attack from the older boys affected him so much he could hardly bring himself to eat without vomiting for a week afterwards. But Martin was getting better. The regular meals and snacks were doing him good and he must have surely gained about an inch since Douglas started looking after him and Arthur when Carolyn was away.

Douglas admired Carolyn more than he cared to admit. She was only twenty. Arthur was the result of a teenage pregnancy; Gordon, Carolyn's sadist, idiot boyfriend, hadn't liked Arthur. Douglas was glad Carolyn dumped him after he slapped the poor child; a year ago now. But Arthur remembered parts of what Gordon would do. He was only three but understood the words idiot, wuss, and a lot of really bad swears; just because they were always aimed at him with that vile sneer, always when Carolyn wasn't there.

Carolyn had fostered Martin when a friend told her about him – the scared little boy with scarres and bruises she found huddled in the attic of an abandoned house she had been _investigating_. Martin was terrified of her and Arthur at first – always apologising when there was silence, God help the boy if he dropped his _empty_, _plastic_ cup. Carolyn had spent an hour trying to help Martin out of his panic attack.

Douglas snapped out of his thoughts to see a truly precious thing. Martin drew Arthur into a hug, only a few seconds – but it was still even more progress. "I-it'th ok. M-my dad didn't like me e-either…"

Arthur was released quickly and Martin blushed. Arthur smiled, "Love you, Skip."

"B-but you d-don't know me…" Martin frowned.

"You have to be good if you can make me feel better, Skip!" Arthur giggled.

"R-really?"

"You're… You're… Really, _really_ good!"

"Another word may be… brilliant," Douglas smiled, placing a gentle hand on Martin's shoulder.

"Brilliant…" The toddler tested the word before beaming, "You're _brilliant_, Skip!"

"Th-thank you…" Martin smiled slightly, "Tho are you two."

"You know what else is brilliant?" Douglas asked, the children looked at him questioningly, "My mother's Toblerone cupcakes. Martin, if you want to go to your room, I'll bring you one; but you're more than welcome to play with us…"

"I-I'll try playing…" Martin blushed.

"Brilliant!"

Carolyn opened the front door. It was noisier than it had ever been – but it was the sound of a _real_ home. She closed the door softly, not wanting the scene disturbed. Douglas was laughing, that too-deep-for-his-age laugh she always teased him about; Arthur's loud giggles; aeroplane impressions; and… A squeaky, utterly adorable giggle she hadn't heard before. Did that mean…?

She opened the kitchen door. Arthur, Martin and Douglas were running around the kitchen, arms outstretched, making aeroplane noises. Martin was giggling, too – _giggling_! Carolyn couldn't help but think it was a beautiful sound.

"Martin?" she smiled.

"Th-thorry, I-I'm being t-too noithy… I-I'll be q-quiet…" Martin stuttered, wide eyed.

"No!" Douglas and Carolyn objected in unison. Martin made himself smaller out of pure instinct.

"Sorry," Carolyn apologised, "But don't stop giggling Martin."

"Why? It's noithy and thtupid and –"

"No, Martin; it isn't," Carolyn smiled, "It's one of the most beautiful sound I've ever heard!"

"Really…?

"Yes," Carolyn was positively beaming now. Martin was her boy. She was signing the adoption papers as soon as possible, she had made her decision. "Come on, I'll be a spitfire!" She spread her arms and ran around with the children – _her_ children. It didn't matter that Douglas wasn't fostered or adopted by her and _certainly_ wasn't her own child; she liked to think of them all as her boys. Her's to love and protect.

Douglas ran alongside to mumble in her ear, "You better hope Herc treats them well, for his sake. If he tries to do anything, he'll have to deal with me."

"He won't; but if he does, I bagsy the first punch."


End file.
